Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 93 pages of information about Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams.

The tap-room presented its usual evening appearance
when the agent entered. The curate and lawyer
were deep in a discussion on the beauties of the new
poor-law; the farmers grumbling at the weather; the
landlady quietly seated behind the bar, while the
bar-maid, a smart, coquettish girl of nineteen, carried
the ale and brandy around to the thirsty customers,
and all the usual concomitants of a scene then common,
but, what we must now call of the olden time, though
half a century has scarce passed away since it occurred.
The agent was a great man there, few liked him—­in
fact, all hated him, for though generally a just man,
he was entirely a man of business; punctuality was
his deity—­there was no excuse with him
for not meeting rent or bills when due; he did not
overcharge or wrong anyone, but he must have his bond,
like Shylock, without his ferocity. If money
was due it must be paid; sickness, bad crops, death
itself was nothing to him; if not, he proceeded legally;
oh, what a world of anguish! what a number of crimes,
crying aloud to Heaven for justice and retribution,
are committed under the cloak of Man’s legality.
The type was forged in Hell that stamped the letter
of the law.

The agent, after exchanging courtesies, lip-deep,
with the principal farmers, the curate, etc.,
walked up to the bar and entered into conversation
with Mrs. Ally, as she was usually called.

’His lordship has desired me, Mrs. Ally, to
put this notice up in a conspicuous place in your
tavern, perhaps you will oblige me by placing it in
a proper position.’ So saying, he handed
her the paper containing the reward, etc., offered
for the apprehension of Hunter.

’You may stick it up yourself on the parish
pump, Mr. Lambert, if you like, but my bar is no station-house
or cage; give it to the town crier,’ said the
dame bristling, for she hated the agent, and feared
him not.

‘Dang my buttons!’ said a burly farmer,
’Mrs. Ally ha the agent dumbfoundered—­what
be the matter?’

‘It is simply this, good friends,’ said
the agent: ’his lordship has offered a
reward of L500;—­L500,’ said the agent,
slowly repeating the sum, ’for the apprehension
of the notorious poacher, Horace Hunter, who has threatened
his life, and will visit with his gravest displeasure
any one who harbors him, or in any way countenances
him; if a tenant he shall be discharged; and Mrs.
Ally here, refuses to let me place the notice in her
bar, thereby showing great disregard for my lord’s
wishes, to say the least.’

The farmers mostly shrunk back on this speech; the
name of a lord, and that lord their landlord, appalled
them. They knew the bitter wrong he had heaped
upon Hunter’s devoted head; they well could sympathize
with him; they had known him a gay and thriving farmer,
their lord’s especial favorite—­fatal
favor—­the companionship of the tiger and
the deer. The beauty of Hunter’s sister
had struck the libidinous eye of the aristocratic